


iridescence in gasoline, in light, on you

by coffeesnack



Series: where the world goes when the lights go out [1]
Category: All Elite Wrestling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Blood and Injury, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Kayfabe Compliant, Not Canon Compliant, Wrestling Tag Team: The Initiative, a bit of a fight a bit of first aid u know, compliant w them as characters but not their arc, mentions of a microcosmic universe, non human character, that'll make more sense in future works i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27365752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeesnack/pseuds/coffeesnack
Summary: The undercurrent of something's-not-quite-right-here laps like a wave, though not as fast-crushing as seeing those scales rise up like the sun.
Series: where the world goes when the lights go out [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2113713
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	iridescence in gasoline, in light, on you

Out of all the cars tetrised into the parking lot at this time of night, of course it'd be Leva's windshield now crackled like an eggshell, the back of Brandon’s head trickling blood onto the dash and wherever else it’d be a surprise to find dried months later.

If any time were best suited to blow a gasket it'd be now, but she reigned herself in quickly, knowing it'd turn into a verbal fight this time over who exactly was at fault; she couldn't take sides lest it justified either the cracking of Brandon’s skull or Peter sending him through it in the first place.

“You're both paying for it. Don't talk to me until it's fixed,” she huffed and headed back towards the arena, looking for a ride home.

Through Leva sprinting outside, the clack of her heels as fierce and definite as ice breaking, through her chewing them out over the sound of the car alarm not knowing it was alright to stop, Brandon hadn’t moved. There was a skip in his breathing, ribs jerking whenever the air went in, just as quickly forcing it back out, but Peter could hear him groaning at least, the world oddly silent.

Were Peter feeling particularly sour he'd say the other looked like a parrot, some tropical bird with unnecessarily vibrant plumage as his scales came out, beaming in bursts as he moved in and out of the range of the streetlight encircling them, trying to unstick himself from the glass.

But as it was, exhaustion permeated even the soft marrow and he could only see his body move without his knowing, one hand steadying the other at the back as he unpeeled himself fully from the now inverted windshield: the scales flickered wildly wherever there was pain, the ones under Peter’s hand undulating like a wave, trying to right themselves. Cutler kept one arm folded under his side, half holding his ribs, half letting it be held between the pressure of his side and other arm, but relaxed some knowing he wasn’t about to collapse in the parking lot alone.

His scales would almost all blend in once they were soothed, akin to the creases of his shoulder blades or the appearance of the most tender, blue-coil veins, but for now they flared in full force, rippling inbetween blue and green. The red ones near his wrists and elbows never faded out, making almost full circlets round, easily laid inward as Peter hopped off the hood of Leva’s car, taking Brandon with him.

He looked mostly human… but Avalon assumed he held some sort of solidarity with the other monsters. 

A long stare from Abadon, unusually quiet as she watched him one night, post-match stretching in the back lot. He considered heading back inside immediately, having not known she was out there, but decided against it as she merely watched, fiddling with the cracks in the concrete steps, shuffling to make room for him to sit.

An almost unnoticed hand from Serpentico, laid over the back, almost crept over the shoulder. Snaked away just as quickly as it happened, Cutler knowing someone had actually, physically been there only by the tails of a ring coat touching the door frame before slipping entirely out into the hallway.

A curt nod from Luchasaurus when they caught each other across the room, swarmed with human people- schools of fish jerking away from sharks.

There was a form of camaraderie from some, anyone just-human, knowing exactly how it felt to be odd. Cody's bloodlust, Jungle Boy's innocence, Darby Allin's odd demeanor... unsure if that's always just makeup rather than some pulsing feature, apparent especially in the dark.

No one cared to look his way anyways so he surely didn't face the same scrutiny as the others, minus the occasional curious look (mainly from Jungle Boy and Marko Stunt) but… still. Peter wondered if it took effort to conceal those scales or if they acted on their own, fluctuating with mood regardless of if he wanted them to. If there were sharp parts to his teeth only felt with the absent side of the tongue, never to be seen by anyone’s eyes.

“Do you remove them or bandage them over…?” he found himself asking without knowing enough to stop.

Brandon’s eyes flickered to a sore spot on his chest rather than straining his eyes trying to see over his shoulder. “Oh like you really--” he began frustratedly, scoffing at that, that the man that caused the injury in the first place would-... but he softened, dipping slightly into embarrassment when he realized the other held no malice. Not this time.

“They'll fall out eventually,” Cutler said, still trying to bend some back into place. “If you want to get the loose ones, be my guest. Lucky I don't have glass in me too...” There was a pause, both before and after, but the point was there, waiting until either of them made a move in either direction, the other then to follow.

The arena inside was drafty, a self-birthed breeze casting itself down the halls, both uncharacteristically and expectedly empty for the time of night yet as always it seemed. They were able to find somewhere small at the end of an offshoot hall that no one would enter or even think on.

Brandon took to the skinned patches of his upper arms, wiggling the broken and bent pieces out as Peter dug around in the cabinets for anything vaguely like tweezers. Taking to the other’s back, to avoid looking, asking, speaking any more tonight, he eased out the most aggressively wrong pieces, dull in the lackluster light but still like nothing he’d ever seen.

Brandon was the only one bloodied enough to warrant a shower and he turned off the overhead light as he left to find wherever the locker rooms were in proximity to “Here.”

Peter swore he'd memorized the floorplan, however extensive the arena grounds were, but he hadn't remembered such dorm-like accommodation: comfortable fold out beds, ample blankets… but he wasn't going to complain. 

Besides, with the nights stretching so long into darkness these days, he might as well curl up here rather than venture out into the cold for even the short trek home. It'd be a secret, this room in particular, with its perfect view into the greenery, a small fridge with cold juice and water, and of course, a bookshelf that would so easily fit his and Leva's and Brandon's texts and things; they could easily section off nonfiction from fiction, music from trinkets, and Brandon's "mystic tome" as Leva called it, a thick spellbook strapped in one piece, could even go up top with his extra dice. He'd really have to see about getting it rebound for him…

The door creaked open and Peter could only vaguely register that Brandon was being quiet on his behalf as he was preoccupied with looking convincingly like someone who'd actually fallen asleep.

Brandon inched the curtains closer together, leaving them in comfortable, mostly complete darkness, before peeling back the blankets on his bed: half neatly creased, half curled into a den. Peter opened his eyes only when he heard the creak of a body surely laid on its side, irises lit golden with flame as Brandon breathed out.

He centered that heat over his forearms, not enough to torch the sheets or darken the wall- nothing that’d get either of them in trouble or in danger. The thin-lick flames tapered out with one last, steady out and he shivered off that sudden change in temperature, tugging the blankets up over one shoulder.

Peter didn’t close his eyes when Brandon turned inward, unsure if he could see or sense himself being watched but Peter didn’t find himself anxious about being caught. Both of them stayed curled towards the middle of the room, the residual heat welcomed both to ease the quick end to fall into a surely rough winter, at least for tonight, and to tie them and them only into this space, the world outside shortened drastically at night.

There was no hallway on the other side of that door, no courtyard on the other side of that window- just one encampment suspended in space for two odd party members: an endless night torn straight from a book.

**Author's Note:**

> It took me a bit to like, know what I wanted for the tags and the title and the content right before the end of the piece that would help introduce the setting as disconnected without going into that too much yet BUT it's done and I hope it set things up nicely for more, in this universe and regarding non-human interpretations of characters~
> 
> You can support me and what I create through linktr.ee/teaflora and the links there!


End file.
